


The Boy He Loved

by feathered_minds



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-04-08 11:53:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19106554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feathered_minds/pseuds/feathered_minds
Summary: Lucas struggles on a night without Eliott. Cue the power of soulmates.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So, this is the first fic I've ever written and I'm very nervous to post it.  
> Let me know what you think!  
> 

Even though Lucas knew why Eliott couldn’t be with him tonight, even though he had known about his weekend commitments for weeks prior, Lucas could feel himself drifting. He couldn’t stop the feeling from festering inside of him, creeping into his mind like a virus, maliciously announcing its presence before committing to destruction, notifying him that there was no getting rid of it this time. He would have no choice but to ride through it, let himself be drained by his own irrationality.

Luckily, he was alone in the apartment, his roommates out for the second night in a row, giving him some sort of comfort in that the only witness to his crumbling would be none other than himself.

It started off slowly as he was slouched in a corner of the couch, vaguely registering the images illuminating the television screen. He was greeted by a thought unwelcome, showing its vicious, toothy grin as it took a seat in the back of his mind. _Are you sure there’s not another reason why Eliott is not here with you?_ it said, getting comfortable in its invasion, emitting a sense of satisfaction as it opened the pathway for its menacing companions to join.

“No”, Lucas whispered to himself, closing his eyes. “Not tonight, please”, he begged, just as quietly, gathering the strength to get up from the couch, his feet hurriedly taking him to the room he had finally gotten back. As he entered, he turned and slammed the door shut in a useless attempt to separate himself from his thoughts. The harrowing sound of it rummaged through the vacant apartment and settled in his ears, the previous comfort of being alone transforming into something heavier, darker, overbearing with its gravity. He let his forehead fall heavily against the door, palms touching the rough material as they rested on it, fingers curling, hopelessly grasping for something to help him stay afloat.

He could feel another thought forming, coming alive, crawling inside of him like nerves shifting into spiders, spreading in his bloodstream, their venom poisoning the last remnants of his ration. _He doesn’t want to be with you. Nobody wants to be with you. Not even your roommates can stand you anymore. Just take a look around. You’re all alone._

“No, no, no”, he said, voice weak and trembling as his breathing went rapid, as if trying to run away from him, mocking him when he failed to catch up. Not letting his head lose contact with the cool surface of the door, he rolled around and turned his back against it, letting himself slide down to the floor, his knees bending, inviting him to wrap his arms around them.

 _You’re all alone,_ he heard again, faintly, in the distance through the fog in his mind. Suddenly, the fear of the thought being truthful overcame him, his body succumbing to it, engulfing itself in the pain of it all. His muscles were cramping, contracting, forcing themselves to shrink further into him, fleeing from their own sensations. He felt the tears starting to run down his cheeks, softly at first, tentative, as if making sure that the coast was clear. Giving in to it, he embraced his legs, pulling them closer as the tears increased their violence and the sobs overtook him. His breathing was becoming a struggle, breaths short, empty and ragged, making him wonder whether his lungs were keeping him alive or suffocating him.

Accompanied by his own unwanted thoughts, he sat there in the low light of his room, sinking deeper and deeper into himself for a seemingly vast fraction of eternity. Eventually, he heard a loud thud, the door behind him rattling a little, an aftershock pulling him back out from himself just enough to hear someone call his name.

“Lucas? Are you home?”

Even through the hazy state he was in, through his body failing him, through the venom tainting his blood, he registered the voice as Eliott’s. _He is here. Why is he already here?_

Lucas was sure that his own voice would betray him if he tried to use it, but he desperately knew that he had to make his presence known, had to reach out a hand, a link to break through the surface in hopes of being hauled out of the depths.

In spite of his lungs continuing to fight him, sobs still ripping through him like shards of glass, he let go of his legs and clumsily grasped the door handle. Using it as leverage, he turned his body around before pushing it down, finally getting rid of the barrier separating him from his Eliott. Eliott must have heard the chaos emanating from Lucas as he came rushing towards him, desperate to close the distance between them. Lucas let go of the handle, collapsing into himself all over again, the floor catching him before Eliott had the chance to. He kneeled down next to Lucas, arms wrapping around his heaving torso, lifting him slightly to cradle his head with the crook of an arm.

“You’re here”, Lucas managed to breathe out, voice too strained to make itself known, words slightly muffled by the proximity of Eliott’s chest. “You’re here”, he repeated, realization hitting him as he curled his fists into Eliott’s sweater, tightly latching onto it as an anchor to keep himself tethered to reality.

“I’m here”, Eliott whispered into Lucas’s hair, gently swaying him back and forth, kissing his temple and silently guiding him through the fog, waiting for the sobs to subside until his breathing was no longer robbing him of air. ”You’re not alone anymore, either”, Eliott said then with the most tender of voices, instinctively knowing exactly what Lucas needed. The arms around him tightened as his body went limp and heavy, giving in to the exhaustion he was left with after his emotional demise. The promise of Eliott’s words coated him with serenity, and for the second time that night, Lucas could feel himself drifting. No vicious, toothy grin was greeting him now, only the safety of sleep in the arms of the boy he loved.


	2. Chapter 2

Reluctance joined Lucas as he began to slowly slip back into the world of the conscious, a room bathed in moonlight wishing him welcome. Being awake again felt wrong and heavy against his skin, as if he were covered by a blanket made of stone; weighty enough to offend him with its presence, but light enough to not be life-threatening.

He realised that he was no longer being upheld by the floor, only the frosty, crinkling sheets in his bed providing their comfortable solace, Eliott’s arms still as tight around him now as they had been then. The discovery alone made forceful ounces start to shift into those of feathers, gradually soothing his distressed nerves with delicate brushes.

As he lay there listening to a world gone quiet while the sun still slept, he felt the body in front of him stir a little. In response to the movement, he buried his hands in Eliott’s sweatered chest, nuzzling further into the hollow of his neck. He entangled himself around him, braiding their legs together until there was no beginning or end, only _them_ , hoping that the silent message would come across through the gesture. _Yes, I am awake. No, I don’t want to talk about it yet. Please don’t leave me again._

As if on cue, Eliott cleared his throat lightly, preparing it to speak, reminding Lucas of how in synch they are; every motion, every touch, every breath a wordless conversation. 

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to”, Lucas heard as a mumble into his hair, Eliott’s voice low and raspy from what must have been hours of disuse.

Stalling a little, he let his fingers trace the soft material underneath them in nonsensical patterns, haphazardly picking at lifeless specks of lint and dropping them onto the mattress. He contemplated whether he should speak now or stay quiet, not wanting to disrupt the peaceful ambiance that coated the room.

Finally, he whispered, “I don’t really know what to say”, breathing Eliott in and reveling in the familiar scent of his skin, stained by slumber and sandalwood and home.

“That’s okay. I can wait.” 

Eliott affirmed his offer by pulling Lucas even closer, as if to say _come here, hide within me, where the sorrows of the world can’t reach you._ Lucas thought to himself that _if it were possible, I would already have slipped into your skin with the intention of never coming back._

A few beats went by before he responded, decision suddenly made clear in his mind. “No, I want to, it’s just— I don’t know how.” The vulnerability in his voice prompted embarrassment to greet him, in spite of being certain that Eliott would tuck the sound in with cotton; ever soft and cradling.

“Try. I don’t bite unless it’s clear that you’d like it.”

Lucas huffed out a chuckle at the smile in Eliott’s tone, giving him a light kick with his heel, prompting the other boy to release giggles of his own. When they settled, Lucas wandered back into wistfulness, asking Eliott, ”Why are you here, anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be with your parents?”

”I was, but something came up at the firm so they had to go back early. And I needed to see you. I needed to be with you again, so I came back as soon as I could.” The syllables fell apologetically into Lucas’s dark strands, Eliott’s arms squeezing soundly around him for emphasis, pressing every letter into him, the honesty of them mending and healing and helping. _He needed to be with me._

A sudden worry made Lucas speak again. ”Did something happen?”

”No”, he was given immediately, the feeling running into hiding again, ”I just missed you.”

”Well, your timing is impeccable as always”, he tried; a joke, but also not. Eliott never failed to sense the ambiguity in such moments, resulting in the soft whisper of a repeated _always_ traveling through the ends of Lucas’s hair, the meaning changing into something that settled in the core of his heart, nesting there as it continued to rebuild him. 

Struck by a sliver of courage, Lucas clung to Eliott tighter, tighter, tighter, before letting the words find their way out into the air.

“I just get scared sometimes, I guess.” The confession left him with quiet caution as he burrowed his face further into polyester and skin.

“Of what?”, he was asked, fingers drawing encouraging circles on his back, nudging him to go on.

An inhale, and then, “Of people not coming back.” 

It came out like a breath; somber and morose and significant as it mingled with the atmosphere, Eliott’s breath hitching and movements halting. Lucas knew that the feeling was redundant, but that knowledge wasn’t enough to quench it, silence it, replace it with the truth. So he gave it the room it demanded, hoping that the announcement of its presence would prompt it to leave, its purpose having been served at last.

After a moment, Lucas felt a trail of comfort climbing along his back, following the blade of his shoulder and coming to a stop on his nape, the caress of a gentle thumb against his cheek making it settle there. He let himself be guided until there was enough distance for their gazes to connect, the warmth of Eliott’s chest now replaced by the crisp fabric of a pillow. Instantly, Lucas was met by eyes that were full of nothing but silk and velvet; a look known to soften crystal irises as promises were about to be made, their intensity turned rosy and reassuring.

”I will always come back to you”, Eliott vowed then, and Lucas couldn’t bear the sincerity of it, a sigh escaping him as his eyes fell shut, relief and gratitude overwhelming him. Soon, the brush of lips connected with his forehead, his eyelids, the tip of his nose, the corners of his mouth. Another whisper of _always_ punctuated every kiss, making sure that the word reached him instead of falling limp through the air, meeting the same destiny as the pieces of lint; tossed aside and forgotten. 

There was no blanket of stone enveloping him anymore, only one of Eliott, leaving Lucas willing to be crushed beneath it, trusting that he would never have to be. His forehead met Eliott’s as his hands searched for a waist, pulling, yearning, aching; closer not being close enough.

_He is here. Eliott is here. My Eli is here._

Three thoughts became three words, three words that drowned in meaning but appeared only as surface, their waves of whispered sound merging into one, crashing onto Eliott wherever he could be reached; printing, marking, binding. It landed airily on the shore of his lips while sapphires stayed resting in temporary darkness.

”I love you.” _You said you needed to be with me so tell me you love me, too._

The tip of a finger printed its pattern on Lucas’s lower lip, like a butterfly pausing on a petal. Infinite hues of Eliott seeped in and coalesced with his own, turning him into a painting; _Eliott’s_ painting.

”I love you, too.”

A signature in the form of a kiss sealed the artwork inside of him, canvas and creator becoming one as they explored each other’s palettes.

_He loves me, too._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to update this, but I hope it was worth it!  
> I've had a mad writer's block but it feels like I'm back now.  
> I have a few things in the making and hopefully it won't take me forever to share them. :)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading this! Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated. <3
> 
> tumblr: @feathered-minds


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